My Own Ghost
by KaliNiiro
Summary: *Spoilers For Movie* Clint shouldn't have had to ask for the status of Agent Coulson.


Clint trusted Nick Fury. The assassin had been in too many tight spots where Fury had been the dividing line between him and a varied of horrible fates. Trust had been developed out of necessity, but Hawkeye found it reassuring to add someone else to his short list of people he trusted.

It was a trust that carried over to his lover, Phil Coulson. He knew that Fury would take care of Coulson no matter what. The Director was the type of leader to take a bullet for one of his men, and Clint respected that.

Never did it occur to him to ask after Phil when he woke up from having Loki in his head. He was so angry that Loki had gotten in his head, that he figured if anything had happened then Fury would tell him. The Director didn't mince words; Fury knew that Clint hated not knowing if there was something wrong.

When he came out of the bathroom, Clint was going to ask Natasha about Coulson, to just make sure that he was okay. There was so much to be done that Clint didn't feel bad that Phil didn't have a moment to come make sure that the archer was okay. They understood that sometimes the job took prescendence.

But Captain Rogers came in, and he looked like a man out for blood. Clint wanted blood too. Loki had made him leave his duty, his friends, his lover. There was nothing he wanted more than to make the so called god pay.

It was one of the hardest fights that Hawkeye had ever been involved in. But to his absolute amazement, they won. They defeated a demigod and his army from outer space. He couldn't wait to tell Phil they had to add it to their resumes. To hear his lover chuckle and say that Clint's resume was above top secret and therefore didn't technically exist. He just wanted to let Coulson know that everything was okay, New York City would have to be repaired, obviously. But things would be okay.

Obviously, Clint wanted to hold Phil, touch his body again. It had been forever since they had a few weeks too themselves. Fury definitely owed them a vacation. The archer even smiled on the way to drop the 'gods' at their departure point. He thought about maybe Portland as a spot, so he could rub it in Phil's ex's face. Though, Coulson would probably hate that, the man was above being petty. Barton was okay as long as he could sleep, curled up with the man who loved him.

Getting back to the helicarrier took longer than Hawkeye had thought. He and Natasha had been summoned to come back for debriefment. Even though she fell asleep, Clint stayed awake, jittery to see Phil again.

There was a moment of confusion when he saw Fury in the conference room. Coulson usually went through their debriefings with them. Fury had a whole ship to run to be dragged into things like this.

"Where's Agent Coulson?" Clint asked, keeping a steady gaze. He glanced at Natasha who looked away.

Something awful dug its claws in his chest, Clint tried to shake the feeling.

"Where the hell is Philip?" he demanded, turning back to Fury.

"Barton, Agent Coulson went to try and prevent Loki's escape during the attack on the helicarrier," Fury paused, moving forward a step, "Loki killed him before back up could get there."

"No," Clint said, shaking his head. No, no, no. He put both hands on the conference table, trying to support his body that felt heavier than it should.

"Clint, we needed to stay focused to get through the fight," Natasha said. She glanced to Fury for reassurance that they had indeed done the right thing by holding back about Coulson. When he had pulled out of the mental confusion and had asked about how many men were down, she had to deflect or she would have told him.

"No," he choked, oh god, that had been me. I led that raid on the helicarrier. I helped Loki kill Phil. I did it.

Hitting the floor seemed like an out of body experience, everything felt so distant. Clint tried to move, to breathe, but none of his limbs seemed to remember how to coordinate. It took everything to force his way through each breath.

"Why didn't- I don't-" Clint shook his head. Please, no, please let this be a nightmare. I just want to wake up, this can't be reality.

Natasha knelt next to him, big green eyes staring at him in sympathy. "Clint, I need you to focus on me, oka-"

"I don't remember the last time I saw him," he said, eyes unfocused, as he stared at the chair, that his hand seemed to be clutching. He couldn't feel it under his skin.

"Clint..." Natasha said, putting a hand on his arm.

But he could remember, it was the morning before everything had happened with Loki's arrival. Clint had spent a few hours in bed asleep next to Phil before they had to go back to their posts. Barton had slipped into the warm bed, curling around his lover's form and drifted off as Phil had woken long enough to kiss the archer's forehead.

Coulson had left before Clint had to get up, and as Phil left he had pulled the sleepy assassin out of his slumber long enough to claim a long lazy kiss from him. The archer had been asleep before Phil reached the door.

Someone was talking to Hawkeye as he lifted his eyes to look around the room. His gaze fell on Fury, the man he had trusted to take care of Philip Coulson Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.

It would be the last time Clint trusted the Director with anything.


End file.
